New Arrivals
Author-Sorcha
Titles

Generation Gap
by Sorcha

Author's Notes: Many thanks to Danae, my wonderful beta reader. I'd like to dedicate this story to my dear friend Keren and her mom. Comments welcome.

Rated: G.

Disclaimer: I don't own the guys and I made no money by writing this story. No infringement intended.

As the late afternoon sun began to slowly sink from the sky, Detective Ellison and his partner emerged from the grocery store. One arm wrapped around a full paper bag, Jim looked over at his friend as they walked across the parking lot. Blair had been more hyper than usual that day and he was still bouncing with every step he took. Ellison shook his head in amazement. "You know, Chief, sometimes it really seems like there's no limit to your energy."

"Yeah, well, at least it's better than being old."

Jim shot him a look. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, nothing," Blair said in a voice that contradicted his words. He ducked out of Jim's reach, just barely avoiding a cuff to the side of his head.

The detective unlocked the passenger door for Sandburg, and when he stepped away from the truck and turned around, a bag of carrots landed at his feet with a thud. Jim was initially startled but he recovered quickly, retrieving the fallen vegetables and handing them back to their owner, a young woman who was juggling three large bags of groceries.

"Oh, thank you, Sir," the woman said gratefully, then continued on toward her own car.

The Sentinel continued his trip around to the driver's side of the truck and climbed in. There, he found Blair to be unsuccessfully attempting to hold back amused chuckles. "All right. What's so funny, Sandburg?"

"She called you Sir," Blair replied, as if it were the funniest thing he'd heard in a long time.

"And just because you don't show proper respect for your elders, you find it amusing when others do?"

"Elders is right, man. I bet she said it because she thinks you're old." Blair continued to laugh.

"Old, huh?" Jim turned the key in the ignition with a little more violence than usual. "I'm not old, Sandburg. Old is being on the wrong side of fifty. I'm still young."

"Yeah? Well, if you're young, then what am I?"

"A baby, Sandburg. Just a baby."

"Okay, man. Whatever." Blair shook his head, still amused but willing to drop the subject for the moment.

The rest of the car ride was relatively peaceful, Sandburg giving only the occasional muffled snicker. At one point Jim opened his mouth to ask his friend why he was so hyper, but seeing that Blair looked as if he might burst out laughing at any moment, the Sentinel decided that it would probably be best to keep quiet. So he tried his best to ignore his partner's silly mood, concentrating instead on the late afternoon traffic.

They stopped at the police station on their way to the loft so Jim could deliver a file that Captain Banks was needing. As the three men stood chatting in Simon's office, Blair caught a glimpse of Detective Brown out in the bullpen and jumped up. "Hey, there's Brown. I need to talk to him about something." With that, Sandburg headed for the door.

"Hey, Chief." Jim stopped him. "Do me if a favour and give him that forensic report that's on my desk, okay?"

"Yes, Sir!" Sandburg said, saluting Jim enthusiastically, a twinkle in his eyes. Then he quickly disappeared from the office.

"What was that all about?" Simon asked, wondering about the young man's last action.

"Oh, nothing really," Ellison replied. "He's just trying to make me think I'm old."

"By calling you sir?"

"Yeah."

"So when you guys call me sir, you're saying I'm old?"

Jim noticed that Simon was starting to look a little menacing and decided that the conversation was going in a very dangerous direction. "No, no, Sir... ah... Captain. That's out of respect. Sandburg's just kidding around. You know how he is."

"Hrrumph." Banks jammed a cigar between his teeth and glared at his detective.

"Well, I'd better run. See you tomorrow, S... Simon," Jim stammered as he made a quick exit. He collected his partner from the other side of the bullpen and gently propelled him in the direction of the elevator. "You know, you almost got me in trouble there, Sandburg."

"Moi? How could I get you into trouble? I'm just an innocent little baby, remember?"

They stepped onto the elevator and Jim pressed the button for the garage level. "I never said anything about innocent, Chief. More like the terrible twos."

"Hah! Well, I can still beat you at a boxing match any day," Blair declared with confidence.

"Oh, you think so, do you?"

"Yep."

"Well, we'll see about that," Jim said, and faked a punch to Blair's head. Sandburg didn't miss a beat, and they had a full-scale play-fight going all the way down to the garage.

Later that evening, when all the groceries had been put away and Jim had retreated to the couch, Blair called to his roommate from the kitchen. "It's my turn to make dinner tonight. Any requests?"

"Yeah," Jim replied, getting up to bring his empty coffee cup into the kitchen. "Nothing too healthy. I don't feel like watching what I eat tonight," he said as he placed the dirty dish in the sink.

Blair rolled his eyes. "Like that's any different than usual. You know, Jim, you might be coming up on fifty faster than you think. If you're not careful, it could start to show." He gave the taller man's stomach a quick pat before darting away.

Trying to look threatening, Jim began punching his right fist into his left hand. "I think you deserve a noogie for that comment, Sandburg."

"Oh, no way, man," Blair protested, taking stepped back. "I'm having a bad enough hair day as it is..." A mischievous glint appeared in Sandburg's eyes. "Not that you would be able to understand that."

"You're right, Sandburg, I wouldn't because my hair is always perfect."

"Hah!" Blair nearly choked. "It's more likely because you don't have any hair."

"No hair, huh? Then what do you call this, Wise Guy?" Jim asked, tapping his head.

"You call that hair?" Blair laughed even harder, making it difficult to get his next words out. "I'm sorry, man, but I wouldn't call that hair. It's more like..." He lost control to his laughter, unable to continue speaking.

"More like what, Sandburg?" Jim demanded, taking stepped closer to his howling partner and folding his arms menacingly across his chest.

In response to Jim's action, Blair moved a step back and bumped into the loft door. He didn't seem to notice though, as he was too busy holding his stomach against his unceasing fit of laughter, tears starting to form his eyes. "Oh, man," was all he could managed to say. "Oh, man."

A smile tugged at the corners of Jim's mouth as he looked at his hysterical guide. "You know, Chief, I think we're up to about five noogies now."

This time the tears started to fall down Blair's face as his legs gave out from under him and he slid down the door to end up slumped in a heap on the floor. "Stop it, man. You're killing me here," Blair barely managed to get out.

"Stop what? I'm not doing anything. I believe that you were the one making rude comments about my hair." Ellison's words were only successful in intensifying the strength of Blair's fit. Jim rolled his eyes and walked back to the couch, shaking his head. "What's with you today, anyway?" The only response to his question was a renewed burst of laughter accompanied by a hiccup. The Sentinel shook his head again. "Let me know when dinner's ready, and let it be sometime this century, okay?" He settled down on the couch with the day's newspaper, pretending to ignore his partner. Old, huh? Jim flicked open the paper. Wouldn't call it hair, huh? There was no way that Ellison could let his partner get away with comments like. Besides, he wasn't going to miss out on those five noogies that Blair owed him. A smug smile slowly started to spread across Jim's face as he plotted his revenge. He would strike when his friend least expected it, and it would be thorough and sweet revenge. Jim sighed happily. He couldn't wait.

The End